


Afraid to be alone

by armlessphelan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armlessphelan/pseuds/armlessphelan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man returns home after a stay in a psychiatric ward. It's rough going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afraid to be alone

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a kinda dark character piece. No real plot. Just some introspection.

Contrary to popular belief, I didn't try to kill myself because I'm gay. I mean, for starters, I'm not even gay. The word to use is bisexual, I guess. And I have no problem with my sexuality: I have a problem with being alone.

"Are you doing okay?" My roommate unlocks the door to our apartment for me. It's all he's done since he picked me up from the clinic: they don't like it when I call it a nuthouse or asylum. But anyway, Asher, my roommate, he's been acting as though I'm made of glass the entire ride home. I sort of find it charming when it isn't infuriating. The guy tried to buckle me in because he was worried my stitches would break open. Never mind that the cuts have long since healed over. I only wear the bandages so that I don't see the vibrant pink scars.

Shaking my head, I lie and tell him that I'm fine. It's not that I'm still thinking of killing myself. Things are just still too raw inside. It'll be a long time before I'm anywhere near fine.

The apartment looks the same, only cleaner. Asher must have appreciated not having my slobby ass around for the month I was gone. He always scolds me about leaving dirty dishes in the sink or on the desk in my bedroom.

"You still got the rent check, right?" I ask as I walk to my bedroom. I stop and stare at the white door. I must stare at it for longer than is normal, because Asher ignores my question and reaches around me to open it. He asks me again if I'm okay and I don't even have the energy to lie. My lips just stay pressed together.

Of course the first thing I see would be one of Jamie's CDs. Who even uses CDs anymore? We're Millennials. Everything is supposed to be digital with us.

"I didn't throw anything out. Well, except for the candy wrappers and half a bottle of soda." I hear what Asher says, but it doesn't click in my head. A lot of things haven't clicked.

Setting my bags on the floor, I approach the desk and stare at the CD. Asher is still talking, but I can't make out what he's saying. All I can see is the tear in the corner of the paper insert. Jamie got so mad when I did that. It was an accident, all I wanted to do was read the lyrics to whatever song was playing.

When Asher touches my shoulder, I involuntarily flinch away. Before the clinic I had no problems with touching. Then I met another patient who always wanted to touch everyone and...

"Miller? Can you hear me?" The fear in Asher's voice cuts through the fog in my mind. I really didn't mean to scare him. It's just that I don't know what I'm supposed to do. The clinic tried to teach me how to cope, how to deal with things outside, but I just faked it. It'd been a month and all I wanted was out. There is nothing quite like being around other suicidal people to bring you down.

"It's Jamie's," I whisper, handing the plastic jewel case to Asher. I can't even look at him, so I keep my eyes on the recently vacuumed floor as I shuffle to my bed and sit. He even washed my bed linen? Why? It's not like they were bloody. I mean, I had the decency to slit my wrists in the tub so that there wouldn't be a mess.

Oh man." Asher isn't looking at the CD. I can't see him, but I know his gaze is fixed on me. Then I feel the mattress sag as he sits down beside me. An arm slides around my midsection, hand resting on my hip. "Do you need help getting rid of his things? I didn't know what belonged to who, so I... I'm sorry. Do you want me to throw it away?"

I almost smile. Asher is one of the few straight guys who got me.

"That would. Yeah. That would help a lot. Thanks."

“Anything you need. Don't be afraid to ask.” He stands up, CD in hand, and starts to leave to throw it away. I'm not looking at him, but I know he stops at the doorway.

“It's fine,” I assure him.

“Are you sure?”

Really, I'm not. I've never been more unsure in my life. “Sooner or later I'll have to be left alone. You can't babysit me forever.”

“Just... just don't be afraid to yell if you need anything.”

“I will,” I lie.

Then I'm finally alone, in a room full of memories. I hate it.


End file.
